Under the command of Professor Sprout, the students donned earmuffs and began transplanting Mandrakes.
The process was quite tough. After all, Mandrakes are like babies and they struggle wildly when pulled out. It takes a few people to help push them into the soil.
Harry reached out and grabbed a Mandrake, and as it came into contact with the air, it let out a piercing scream.
Harry couldn't hear it, but from the twisted expression of the Mandrake, he could somewhat feel it.
He inspected the Mandrake for a moment and then placed it on the soil.
The Mandrake struggled, not wanting to go in, but suddenly felt a high temperature approaching.
A blue flame ignited on Harry's fingertips.
The Mandrake screamed and began using its hand-like roots to dig into the flower pot, soon digging itself a small pit.
It jumped in, continuing to scream while covering itself with soil until it was completely buried, unable to see the frightening student anymore.
"It's really obedient," Harry remarked, marveling at how he loved obedient children the most.
When he turned his head, he saw his classmates petrified.
"What's up with you guys?" Harry laughed, "Why aren't you continuing to dig?"
But the classmates, wearing earmuffs, couldn't hear his voice.
After a while, Hermione dejectedly stuck her shovel into the soil.
Oh my, Harry is simply not human! He... he is just...
After searching for a suitable description for a while, Hermione gave up thinking about it.
Seeing Harry skillfully bury the Mandrake into the soil, Professor Sprout considered giving Harry an additional ten points later.
She didn't see Harry use the flame to threaten the Mandrake, only getting a rough idea.
After class, on the way back to the hall, Hermione walked up to Harry and asked, "Harry, what was that you used in class just now?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, biting his Licorice Wand.
"That blue flame," Hermione inquired curiously.
"Ancient Burei Immortal Fire," Harry answered truthfully, "but it's not recommended for second-year students because without sufficient magical control, it's impossible to handle such flames successfully."
"Then how about you? Why can you do it?" Neville asked foolishly.
"Because he's the Savior," Hermione snapped, rolling her eyes.
She now had no desire to compete with Harry. Comparing oneself to such a genius of geniuses was meaningless, better to find something else to do, like read books or practice spells, which were a much better use of time.
By evening, the cold wind of Hogwarts began to blow.
Ron, Hermione, and Harry were initially sitting outside enjoying the breeze when a cold gust made Hermione shiver.
"I feel like I'm underdressed," Hermione said, looking down at her legs.
"You're just wearing knee-high socks, with exposed thighs, of course you'd be cold," Ron critiqued sharply.
"Isn't that just how the Scottish Highlands are?"
The trio turned to see a blonde girl wearing carrot earrings.
The girl's skin was pale with faint eyebrows; she had silver eyes and dark golden-brown hair falling over her shoulders.
When you took a closer look, her eyes seemed slightly protruding, giving her a perpetually surprised expression.
"Hello," the girl said, looking at Harry with unfocused eyes, "I know you, you're Harry Potter, right?"
"Yes…" Harry considered that this girl might just get along well with Pabi.
Hmm... they seemed the same... not sure how to describe it.
Thinking of Pabi, Harry felt a pang of nostalgia, really missing her.
He wondered how she was doing at Mr. Leme's place, thinking he should perhaps write to Mr. Leme to ask about Pabi's current situation.
Harry thought about it but decided against it. As for the owl... Hedwig already had one international flight, flying from London was manageable, but from the Scottish Highlands to Paris... Harry feared it might exhaust Hedwig.
"I'm Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw." Luna extended her hand to shake hands with them one by one: "Nice to meet you all."
After shaking hands with everyone, Luna looked back at Harry, her wide eyes full of curiosity.
"It seems like you have lots of Wrackspurts around you, Harry, you're surrounded by them." Luna's voice was very gentle, "They're flying around you, buzzing."
"Wrackspurts?" Harry asked confused, "What are Wrackspurts?"
He genuinely did not know what Wrackspurts were—neither in books nor in life had he encountered the term.
"Wrackspurts… they are invisible, they fly into your ears and make your brain muddled." Luna explained, "I just felt like there was one buzzing around here a moment ago."
She flapped her hands around in the air, as if driving away invisible moths.
"Who is she…?" Hermione nudged Ron, rotating her index finger at her temple.
A universal sign—meaning is her mind not quite clear?
"I don't know either." Ron whispered.
"Oh, they really do call me Loony Lovegood." Luna seemed to have overheard Ron and Hermione whispering.
Being caught talking behind someone's back was indeed embarrassing, Hermione gave an apologetic smile, repeatedly apologizing to her.
"Sorry, Luna."
"It's okay," Luna said softly, "I'm used to it—"
Finishing her words, Luna hopped away toward the hall, bouncing like a rabbit.
"Next time, let's try not to speak ill of others," Ron said a bit awkwardly, "Look, she heard us loud and clear."
"But, do Wrackspurts really exist?"
Hermione looked a bit conflicted, as a top student faced with unknown terms always would.
"Harry, have you heard of them?" Ron asked.
Harry recalled again, confidently saying: "I've never heard of them, but since she says so, she must have her reasons... I know many wizards have certain special abilities, like seeing things others can't."
He referred to Ancient Magic.
"Well, that is true," Hermione shook her head, "We'd better go back—I should really prep for classes, given there's a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, plus he's an adventurer and bestselling author..."
At this point, Hermione clutched her hands in admiration.
"I bet he's all flash!" Ron grumbled, always feeling this new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was like Quirrell from last year—or maybe even worse than Quirrell.
(It's the end of the month, please vote for the monthly ticket, thank you all)
(The last 4,000 words are extra, each 8,000 monthly votes and League Master Ten Thousand Like the Sea hides the last 2,000 words)
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